


Once a Wrecker, Always a Wrecker

by disdainfreely



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU where IDW Megs can be a gun, Brainstorm is a gay disaster, M/M, Mark me down as scared and horny, Percy is scary and hot, So is Megatron it turns out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfreely/pseuds/disdainfreely
Summary: In a crisis situation, the Lost Light Crew needs a gun and a sniper.Conveniently for everyone, both Megatron and Perceptor are present.Well. Maybe not so conveniently for Megatron.





	1. Chapter 1

Megatron should have known better than to think that any stop of the Lost Light could be not a total catastrophe. At the very least he’s going to have to ban Rodimus from choosing the planets.

They’re hunkered down behind a convenient rock formation, Megatron keeping a wary eye out for anyone flanking them while the others shoot. Well. The others who brought weapons.

So Ultra Magnus and Whirl.

Shockingly, Megatron finds himself pressed up against Perceptor, Brainstorm, Rodimus, and Tailgate, all apparently weaponless.

“Your entire job is to make weapons! How do you not have any with you?” Rodimus demands, glaring at Brainstorm. 

“You said they weren’t allowed on this planet!”

“Since when do you listen to rules like that?”

“I don’t know! Thought I’d give it a try!” Brainstorm flutters his wings at Perceptor in away that Megatron recognizes from his years dealing with Seekers. Ugh. Aerial flirting. 

Perceptor makes a faintly disgusted sound.

“What are we gonna do?” Tailgate asks, visor sparking in panic. Megatron peers over their cover.

“It looks like they’re considering a retreat.”

“They’ll bring reinforcements if they do,” Ultra Magnus says between bursts of gunfire.

“What, were you just gonna let ‘em run?” Whirl cackles. Megatron winces and makes a mental note to suggest to Rung that Whirl needs more frequent sessions.

“Why are they even attacking us?” Rodimus tries to look out and nearly loses an optic for his efforts. “Hey! Stop it!”

“The local population isn’t fond of Cybertronians for some reason. What could it possibly be?” Perceptor gives Megatron a piercing stare.

“Whatever the reason, we’re here now.” Megatron does his best to ignore the glare in favor of watching their opponents. He’s distracted by a pained howl from Whirl, who’s taken a shot directly to the turbine. 

Rodimus reaches out and drags Whirl behind the cover, where Perceptor starts hurriedly patching torn lines. Tailgate presses himself in under Whirl’s cockpit to offer comfort. 

“They’re pulling back,” Ultra Magnus reports.

“Don’t let them get away!” Megatron orders, peering over the cover and straightening as it becomes clear their attackers are all fleeing. 

Ultra Magnus downs one with a crack shot, then a second, but there’s still one more rapidly leaving effective range. It’s confirmed by a low growl of his engine.

“I can’t hit it.”

Perceptor stands, and suddenly Megatron is looking at a Wrecker, not a scientist.

“Give me a gun.”

Whirl hands Perceptor his gun strangely silently. Perceptor looks it over quickly and hands it back.

“Useless.” Perceptor looks around, scope optic audibly focusing in on Ultra Magnus’ guns and then away. “These won’t work, and no, Brainstorm, you don’t have time to modify them.” His optics land on Megatron. “You. Transform.” 

Megatron looks down at him. “I haven’t taken that form in--”

“Do it!” Perceptor snaps.

Megatron finds himself obeying immediately, transforming and landing in Perceptor’s open hand. He hasn’t taken this form in a long time, and honestly wasn’t sure if this frame was even capable of it.

Apparently so.

Perceptor runs clinical hands over Megatron’s grip and barrel before nodding.

“Good.” 

Megatron feels Perceptor brace the stock against his shoulder and brace his arms against their cover.

When he’s in this form, Megatron’s senses are severely limited. He can focus somewhat visually through his scope, but otherwise he’s limited to touch and relatively faint hearing. The one sense that is heightened is his sense of electromagnetic fields.

As a result, Megatron has had fairly extensive field contact with a number of mechs. He’s used to the violent, destructive glee in Starscream’s field; the reverent, focused determination in Soundwave’s; the cold logic in Shockwave’s.

From Perceptor, he gets...nothing. Perceptor is treating him like any non-sentient gun. Clinical hands carefully tweak Megatron’s scope and settle him more carefully. Megatron zooms in on their fleeing target, starting to calibrate the shot, when Perceptor squeezes him and whispers against his plating.

“Stop. Don’t try to help. Let me do this.”

Megatron freezes. Perceptor’s voice reverberates against his plating. His hands shift to brush Megatron’s trigger guard. Megatron is still frozen, too startled to say anything.

“Percy, Megs, he’s getting away! You might want to stop flirting and do something!” Rodimus shrills. 

“Let me focus!” Perceptor growls.

Megatron can feel the moment Perceptor fully focuses on their fleeing target. His field freezes, no longer so much as brushing Megatron’s beyond where they’re physically in contact. His joints lock so he can’t move. At the last moment, as Perceptor looks through the sight, Megatron feels him lock down his vents.

There’s a moment of hushed silence before Perceptor’s finger grazes the trigger. From anyone else who’s ever wielded him, Megatron would take that as an indication to fire. But not here. Perceptor said to let him do this.

He can tell their target is reaching the limit of his effective range and tries to convey this through his field. Perceptor ignores him. There’s another long, silent moment before Perceptor finally, agonizingly slowly, pulls the trigger. It takes everything Megatron has not to jump at the suddenly decisive touch.

The sound of the shot reverberates through the otherwise quiet air and there’s a hushed moment before Megatron feels grim satisfaction from Perceptor and hears cheering from Rodimus, Whirl, and Tailgate. He almost forgot they were there.

“How in the Pit did you make that shot?” Rodimus gasps.

“He’s a Wrecker,” Brainstorm breathes in awe.

“I was a Wrecker,” Perceptor corrects him mildly. He sets Megatron down and steps back to give him space to transform. Megatron does so, his plating rattling a little.

That was...strangely exhilarating.

“We should get back to the Lost Light,” Perceptor says, refusing to meet Megatron’s eyes and turning instead to Ultra Magnus, who is also staring.

“Yes. Yes of course,” Magnus says, seemingly blinking himself back to awareness. “You are correct, Perceptor.”

Megatron can’t help but stare as Perceptor walks away.

“He’s amazing,” he breathes, almost a little overcome.

“Isn’t he the best?” Brainstorm agrees, wings wiggling. Back to the flirting.

“I never thought I’d be attracted to Perceptor,” Rodimus says, staring.

“Bitch me too, the fuck?” Whirl asks.

Megatron stares at Whirl for a long moment before shaking his head. Primus, he’ll have to unpack these feelings later.

Much later.


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, and Megatron doesn’t know how but he suspects someone whose name starts with “B” and ends with “rainstorm”, within a day of the Perceptor incident everyone has heard about it.

Everyone.

The entire Lost Light.

Which means that the next time Megatron walks into Swerve’s, he finds an entire table in loud discussion about how attractive Perceptor is. It is, of course, being chaired by Brainstorm. Megatron contemplates just leaving, but even as he starts to turn he sees a familiar, piercing yellow eye land on him and he knows it’s too late.

“Megs! Megs, you were there with Percy. You said he was amazing! You think Percy’s hot, right?” Whirl calls. He is, of course, loud enough to startle the entire bar into silence.

All eyes turn to Megatron.

He sees the telltale red light of Rewind’s camera flick on.

Primus. 

“I was there, yes, and I was complimenting Perceptor’s marksmanship,” Megatron says.

He finds himself sitting, pushed into an empty chair at the table by eager Whirl claws. 

“For the record, can you tell me exactly what happened?” Rewind asks. “I’ve got everyone’s stories except yours and Perceptor’s.” 

“I’m sure you don’t need my account,” Megatron says quickly. The last thing he wants is to think more about Perceptor as a sniper and a Wrecker and a wielder of Megatron’s gun alt.

“Rodimus wants me to get everyone’s,” Rewind says apologetically. “He says he needs to archive quote ‘the day Percy got scary and hot’.”

Megatron is blessedly saved from having to respond by Brainstorm. 

“Please, he’s been both of those for years.”

“He came in 3rd in the Wreckers hotness poll in issue 83 of Wreckers Declassified,” First Aid chimes in. When all eyes turn to him, his field radiates embarrassment. “Or I think he did. I just picked up that issue somewhere.”

“The one issue?” Ambulon asks dryly.

“I just get them for the articles!” First Aid protests. 

“They do have some great shots of Perceptor, though,” Brainstorm sighs dreamily. 

Megatron considers getting up and leaving again, but right as he’s about to flee, he sees Brainstorm’s optics widen and his wings perk up and wiggle.

Oh. Oh no.

“Hello.” Perceptor’s voice comes from behind Megatron’s shoulder. It sounds equal parts curious and wary. Perceptor is right to be wary, given the amount of time he spends with Brainstorm.

“Come sit,” Brainstorm says eagerly. He pulls up an empty chair.

Megatron can practically hear Perceptor’s hesitation and slight unease in the long pause before he sits down beside Brainstorm.

And by extension, beside Megatron.

“Perceptor, I still don’t have your account of what happened!” Rewind says cheerfully. “Got a moment!”

“I shot a mech. Hardly noteworthy,” Perceptor replies.

“But come on! You used Megatron in his gun mode! That’s pretty noteworthy!” First Aid pipes up. He falls immediately silent under Perceptor’s dead stare. 

“You seem to know what you want out of this story,” Perceptor says, standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

“You just got here!” Brainstorm objects.

“I just remembered an experiment that needs to be checked,” Perceptor says. He departs relatively hurriedly. Megatron watches him go. 

“I have work that I should attend to as well.”

“You also just got here!” Brainstorm’s wings quiver a little in indignation. 

“Have fun,” Megatron replies.

“Wait, but I still need your story!” Rewind says, flicking the light of his camera.

“Later,” Megatron promises. He nods to the other occupants of the table and ducks out of Swerve’s. 

He really should talk to Perceptor. He’s been putting it off long enough. Megatron has never considered himself a coward, but this whole affair is starting to venture dangerously close. 

Based on Perceptor’s claim of an experiment in need of tending, he’s probably in his lab. Megatron makes his way there with determined steps and a look that usually succeeds in making all but the most oblivious mechs avoid him. Luckily Rodimus is not between Swerve’s and the lab and Megatron actually arrives fairly quickly. 

Hopefully Perceptor will actually be willing to talk to him.

Megatron pings the lab door to open and steps inside. Perceptor is indeed bent over his lab table, working on something or another.

“Brainstorm, I don’t have time for--oh. It’s you.” Perceptor straightens, setting his datapad down and folding his arms. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to talk. It feels like you’ve been avoiding me since Rodimus’ disastrous attempt at shore leave.” Megatron folds his arms in return.

“We hardly spent time together before that. I fail to see how anything has changed.”

Megatron holds Perceptor’s steady stare and doesn’t comment on the way his targeting reticule expands and contracts repeatedly before locking on to his face.

“There’s a difference between not spending time together and active avoidance.”

“It would hardly seem to be a problem for you. I’ve been completing my shifts.” Perceptor tilts his chin up in a challenge. From most mechs, it would hardly be worth noting, but from level-headed, former Wrecker Perceptor, it’s almost enough to give Megatron some pause.

“I’m your Captain. I am responsible for you to some extent.” Megatron keeps himself steady. “If you have something to say to me, now is your chance. We’re alone and Brainstorm is drinking heavily with First Aid and I’m sure rhapsodizing about both your processor and your aim.” He can’t fully contain his amusement at Perceptor’s exasperated sigh and eye roll at the mention of Brainstorm. 

“He doesn’t need First Aid for that. I’ve walked into the lab to Brainstorm doing that by himself.” 

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, but I didn’t come to talk to you about Brainstorm.” Megatron leans his hip against the door frame, arms still folded. “So?”

“This isn’t something I’m inclined to discuss with you, captain or no.” Perceptor glowers up at him and Megatron can see the danger lurking if he pushes too far. Still, he’s pushed more volatile mechs than Perceptor.

“You don’t have to be inclined to speak to me. I’m your Captain. I can make it an order.”

The glower darkens. “If you’re trying to endear yourself to me, you are not succeeding.”

“Luckily for me, that is not my goal.” Megatron falls quiet for a long moment. “If it is something that I have done, I would like to know what it is.” 

Perceptor gives Megatron a suspicious look before he sighs and unfolds his arms.

“It’s hard to keep hating you with how efficiently and effectively you captain the ship.” He looks faintly ashamed of himself.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” Megatron asks. “Because you hate me less than you used to?”

“No. That would be absurd,” Perceptor replies. He looks a little unsure of himself, enough that Megatron risks pushing.

“Are you upset that we worked well together under pressure?”

Perceptor’s face crumples a little and he looks away, vents dumping a rush of hot air.

“The last mech I tried working with like that was Tripodeca, when we were fighting off one of your pet monsters, and he didn’t survive the experience. Before him, I was at Garrus-9. Ten of us walked in, four died during the mission, one died of his injuries, and one left on life support fighting that same monster. So shockingly, working in close proximity to you is less than comfortable for me and I’ve been looking for space while I consider this. Don’t think I also couldn’t read your field during that whole affair of us working together.” Despite the apparent vulnerability in his voice, Perceptor keeps his chin raised and his optics locked on Megatron. “Is that explanation satisfactory?” 

Somehow even though Megatron specifically asked for the answer, he didn’t expect to actually receive it.

Yes, it is, thank you.” Megatron falls quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say and also struggling to contain his own slight embarrassment. “What did you...feel from our interaction?”

Perceptor’s mouth twists in a slightly bitter smile. “Attraction. You liked that I used you like I would any other weapon. And don’t look so surprised that I noticed. I work with Brainstorm, I’m used to fields radiating...interest.”

Megatron tries not to let his field reveal too much of his embarrassment that Perceptor is so...perceptive. It shouldn’t be so surprising. “Yes, well. Be that as it may. I apologize if my presence on the Lost Light is difficult for you.”

Perceptor softens, his field losing a little of its brittleness. “It would be easier if you’d remained a genocidal warlord. You’re a very effective Captain and in any other circumstance I would be honored to serve with someone like you.”

“I appreciate your honesty, and I will leave you in peace.” Megatron turns to go, but pauses. “By the way, your assessment of my field was accurate.”

“I already knew as much.” Perceptor turns back to his work.

Megatron hesitates another moment. “Given that, do you think--?”

“No, never, and if you bring it up again I’ll get my non-sentient gun and make you regret it.” Perceptor’s voice has taken on its normal matter of fact ton, which is somehow more chilling than any audible rage.

“Fair enough,” Megatron replies, and departs at speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus scene! I didn't expect to write this but y'all were so excited about the first chapter I went and added some more. If y'all want to chat, come find me on twitter under the same name!


End file.
